


Aftertaste

by legendofthesevenstars



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Xenoblade Chronicles Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:47:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25679101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legendofthesevenstars/pseuds/legendofthesevenstars
Summary: After another milestone in the reconstruction of Colony 6, Fiora cooks a meal with a fruit sauce especially for Sharla. Before the celebration, Sharla asks Dunban why he hates fruit so much. The story he tells lets her see a more vulnerable side to the Hero of the Homs, and realize that not every treasured memory may be worth clinging to.
Relationships: Sharla & Dunban
Comments: 6
Kudos: 35





	Aftertaste

Juju’s smile alone had made it worth the work. His face had lit up with the goofy, innocent grin he’d flashed in any good mood since he was the littlest of kids. Though gathering the supplies and reconstructing buildings had worn them out, the labor and effort they’d put in during their journey meant that they had almost completely rebuilt Colony 6 in a few short weeks. Sharla had to smile, too, seeing her home restored to its former glory.

They were taking a well-earned break at the Reconstruction HQ before traveling to the inside of the Bionis. Juju had fashioned it into a makeshift inn, since Otharon’s house wouldn’t have nearly enough beds or space for everyone, and the cold, hard floor of Junks wasn’t exactly comfortable. Fiora was preparing dinner to celebrate their milestone. Shulk, Reyn, and Riki hovered tentatively behind her, while Melia watched them from her seat at the head of the table. Sharla sat at a round table in the corner, and Dunban, Riki having escaped their apparently very earnest conversation to beg for scraps, had joined her a minute ago.

“Good company can’t compete with a good meal,” Dunban joked. “It’s hard to hold a hungry Heropon’s attention.”

Sharla smiled. “Not so for the Hero of the Homs?”

“I can’t say I’ve never thought with my stomach. Especially when what’s on the stove smells so appetizing.”

“It does smell divine.” She folded her arms on the table, eyes on Fiora. She had become used to her mechanical frame, confident in every movement, though she was shakier again now that Meyneth had left her body. “She never seems to mind that she can’t eat her own cooking.”

Tonight’s dinner had been Sharla’s choice. She’d wanted something with fruit, so Fiora had chosen to make poultry with berry sauce, which Sharla knew she’d love.

“Yes, I suppose that would be the best part.”

“You suppose?”

Riki had given up trying to climb up the counter. Now, he was sitting at the table talking to Melia. Shulk turned around to face them, and Reyn continued to hover over Fiora’s shoulder. She didn’t shoo him away, only kept working. He seemed to sense when he was in her way, stepping back when she had to get to the sink.

“I burn just about everything I make,” he admitted.

“Really? I wouldn’t expect that from you and your razor-sharp focus.”

“Besides, if I were the one cooking, you might not get the fruit sauce you wanted.”

“Oh, I forgot.” She frowned. “I should have considered the tastes of the group before I made my request. I’m sorry.”

“You have the most reason to celebrate of anyone here. No need to let my whims influence you.”

Reyn had joined the conversation between Shulk, Riki, and Melia. Melia complained that Reyn was going to snore all night and keep her awake. Reyn pointed to Riki and accused him of the same. Shulk agreed with Reyn, eliciting a quiet laugh from Melia.

“Say, Dunban?”

“Hm?”

“Why do you dislike fruit so much? I’ve never really heard of anyone having a strong dislike for fruit in general. Usually, it’s just one fruit, or a few in particular.”

“Fruit is sweet.” He leaned back in his chair, gripping the table with his left hand. “And sweet things sicken me. Every time I eat something sweet, and particularly fruit, it seems to go sour, as if it’s gone off.”

“You’re saying sweet things have an aftertaste?”

“Yes, that’s a good way to put it. A sour, sharp, overwhelming aftertaste.”

“How curious.”

Dunban smirked. “I forget who I’m talking to. You probably know more about this than I do. Is something wrong with my sense of taste?”

“I have read about a condition that might fit the bill. Dysgeusia, or distortion of taste.” She furrowed her brow in thought. “Are you certain it is not another side effect of what the Monado did to you?”

She knew that in Homs, at least, continued exposure to high levels of ether could cause dysgeusia or even a partial or whole _loss_ of sense of taste, hypogeusia or ageusia, respectively. That might also explain Fiora’s claim that Shulk had no sense of taste.

Dunban shook his head. “It started far before I ever touched the Monado. I was twelve when sweets started tasting off.”

“So they tasted normal before?”

“Not only that. I used to love sweets—much like my sister. My parents were always bringing home candies from the Commercial District, and they kept them in a jar. Fiora and I always used to try and sneak extras from that jar.”

Sharla grinned. “Sounds awfully familiar.” Gadolt had always used to scold Juju for nabbing an extra cookie from the jar.

“They used to bring home fruit quite often. I loved fruit, too.”

“What changed?”

Dunban paused, looking over at Fiora and the others. He breathed a silent sigh.

“Fiora had barely been born when the Mechon attacked our colony. But, as I’m sure you’d understand, it was a day like any other.”

Sharla understood. The first time the Mechon had attacked Colony 6, it had been an ordinary day. She had been playing in the wheat fields with Juju. At eleven, her legs had ached with growing pains. Juju had only been two. Still stumbling over himself, laughing at everything, and learning to talk.

The Mechon hadn’t attacked for a while. Or, at least, she’d had no memory of the last time they’d attacked. They had been safe. Too safe.

She’d had to take Juju by the hand and run for her life. Otharon hadn’t been there when they’d come home, so she’d hidden under the bed and held Juju close. The Defence Force had been a lot stronger and numbered a lot more back then. Without their protection, the Mechon could have easily taken Colony 6.

“Our father, who served in the Defence Force, came home early from training that day. Our mother brought back something special from the Commercial District. She opened the lid of her basket and showed Dad and I three ripe plums. One for each of us.

“I’ll…” His voice broke. “I’ll never forget that image. Mum standing in the kitchen, leaning down to the table with her best old knife in hand, cutting those plums. She handed me the first slice, and barely had the sweetness hit my tongue before a siren blasted throughout the colony.

“Dad jumped backward, clutching the chair. The knife slipped and sliced open Mum’s finger. She dropped the knife and rushed over to the sink to wash off the blood. Upstairs, Fiora had woken up and started to cry. Dad was reaching for his sword, and Mum was yelling, ‘don’t go, don’t go’—

“Then he was gone. Mum wailed in agony, shoved the plate with the sliced plums at me, and ran upstairs to check on Fiora. She held her the whole time. I could hear her sobbing, the old rocking chair creaking back and forth, and I knew what she knew. I took the plate and walked upstairs to the corner of my bedroom, sinking to the floor. I kept eating the plums, but it wasn’t the same. All I could do was stare into space. And keep eating… keep eating. Until I tasted nothing, and tears were rolling down my cheeks.”

Dunban breathed out, as if a weight had been lifted from his chest. His eyes were shining, though no tears fell.

 _I knew what she knew._ Sharla shuddered, biting her lip to quash the tears threatening to escape. She’d been around Dunban’s age the first time she remembered the Mechon attacking. And when she saw the people of the Defence Force leaving their houses, she’d known what Dunban had known. When Gadolt had not returned, she’d known the same thing, as much as she’d refused to accept it.

Sharla leaned forward and placed her hand over his. She remained silent while he sniffled and cleared his throat.

“I apologize,” he began, but she cut in.

“No need.” She patted his knuckles, then withdrew her hand. “I’m sorry about your dad. I would have never thought something so treasured could become a painful memory.”

She still held onto that rifle leaning in the corner, onto the mended watch in her pocket, onto the last words Gadolt had said. As much as it hurt, holding on was the easy thing to do. Holding onto those old memories she loved made her feel safe and happy. Didn’t it?

“But don’t you miss it? Eating fruit like you used to?”

“Not particularly. I don’t feel that I’m missing out on anything.”

Sharla’s heart clenched with sorrow and pity. He’d used to love sweets more than anything, and now he could easily imagine life without them. Had it been her, she’d never want to let the memory of those plums go. They were the last thing Dunban had shared with his father before his death.

“Besides, Fiora knows my tastes. And she knows that I especially don’t want to see any plums.”

Lowering her voice, Sharla asked, “Have you told her?”

Dunban lifted his left hand from the table in a “wait” gesture as he turned his head. Sharla followed his gaze to see Fiora herself walking up to the round table.

“You want yours separately, right?” Fiora asked him.

“Please.”

She turned to Sharla. “I know you like spicy food, but Melia wouldn’t be able to handle very much heat. But I still added plenty of seasoning to the meat. She won’t notice if she covers it in sauce.”

“Do you need any help?”

“Nope!” She beamed. “I’m happy just to make dinner for all of you. And your brother looks happier than ever. I wish I could get _mine_ to smile that widely.”

“You smile enough for both of us, dear sister.”

Fiora faked a groan. “Oh, don’t get all sappy!”

He chuckled. “No need to hang around us older siblings. Go check on your food. Otherwise you’ll be serving us a Dunban Special.”

“And we wouldn’t want _that_ ,” Sharla said.

“Oh, but haven’t you heard? Burning your dinner to a crisp is the newest culinary trend.”

Fiora rolled her eyes. “I think everyone else would have something to say about that, including you. Speaking of which, I’ve got to check on my berry sauce.”

She bounded back into the kitchen. Riki and Reyn were in a heated argument, while Melia and Shulk were having a completely civil conversation, though Shulk was doing most of the talking. Sharla smiled. Soon Reyn and Riki would forget what had riled them up, Melia would get an edge in the conversation, and dinner would be on the table.

Sharla turned back toward Dunban. “Well?”

“Now do you see?”

“See what?”

He lowered his head. “How could I tell her?”

Sharla lifted one hand, clutching it to her heart. She saw. How could she have told Juju what was going on, when he had only been two? Why she had cried and shook, why Otharon had come back with a twisted look on his face? Every time the Mechon had attacked, Juju was still a child. How could she have explained what might happen to the colony, the fate she knew, but didn’t want to accept, that all Defence Force soldiers had to face?

She still hadn’t told Juju about Gadolt. About what Egil had done to his body, about the mindless tool he’d become, about his final moments and his sacrifice. Was it because she wanted Juju to believe Gadolt had died serving a nobler cause—the safety of the colony—rather than the cause closest to his heart? Or was it because, like Dunban with Fiora, she still wanted to protect her little brother from hard reality, make him believe that Gadolt was the hero Juju had believed he was all along? There were so many things he’d already asked about, and Shulk had deferred the explaining to her. But she just wasn’t ready, not yet. She still needed time. If only rewinding her watch had the same effect in real life.

Was it worth it to move on? She wasn’t convinced. Her sorrow hurt her to the bone, and Dunban was carrying his heavy grief on his chest, too. He’d tried to move on, but he wasn’t as strong as he looked. A year ago, he’d been a symbol of inspiration to the people of Colony 6. But he was humble; he didn’t think of himself as the hero everyone saw him as. He was only a Homs. He was just Fiora’s brother. And he was as haunted by his past as anyone.

“You don’t have to,” Sharla said finally. “I understand it, if even after years, the wound still feels too fresh. I’m…” She sighed. “I really appreciate that you were able to tell me. That takes a lot of bravery.”

“You think so?”

“Yes.” She offered a small smile. “It’s hard, isn’t it?”

Dunban shook his head with a bitter laugh as if to say, _You have no idea_.

Fiora called “Dinner!” and Reyn and Riki scuffled to get up to the table. Sharla got to her feet, and Dunban stood up next to her. Before she started toward the table, she heard a whispered “thanks,” and she smiled in reply. She felt grateful, too.

Fiora’s wide smile had made it worth the wait.


End file.
